


The Valg King and His Witch Queen

by Terra_Banks



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Confrontations, Consensual Sex, Dream Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/M, Family Drama, Family Reunions, Forbidden Love, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Marriage Proposal, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Past Abuse, Power Dynamics, Prisoner of War, Public Nudity, Relationship Advice, Royalty, Star-crossed, Trials, Wedding Rings, Weddings, World Domination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terra_Banks/pseuds/Terra_Banks
Summary: When the Valg King gains the keys that guarantee his victory, his first move is to collect his desired prize: the Witch Queen. Little does Erawan know that conquering Manon may prove to be more of a challenge than conquering Erilea itself.
Relationships: Aedion Ashryver/Lysandra, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Erawan/Lysandra, Evangeline & Lysandra (Throne of Glass), Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard, Manon Blackbeak/Erawan, Nesryn Faliq/Sartaq
Comments: 19
Kudos: 50





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [El Rey del Valg y Su Reina de las Brujas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002801) by [Terra_Banks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terra_Banks/pseuds/Terra_Banks)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erawan makes Manon an offer she cannot refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since that scene in KoA where we find out that Erawan desires Manon, I have been unable to get the twisted pairing out of my head and couldn't find any fics out there so I wrote one myself. I feel like he would just be this unpredictable roller-coaster of mercy and cruelty but Manon would somehow find a way to turn utter defeat into something else entirely.

_You belong to me,_   
_My snow white queen._   
_There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over._

_Soon I know you'll see,_   
_You're just like me._   
_Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you._

**\- Snow White Queen by Evanescence**

* * *

It was the most magnificent sight Manon had ever witnessed. Thousands of summoned Crochans and hundreds of rebel Ironteeth from the Ferian Gap had gathered; the greatest aerial legion ever assembled and the first Ironteeth-Crochan alliance in a millennium. It filled her with pride and she wished her family could see that their dreams for a united people had been fulfilled. A part of her thought it was too good to be true.

They were preparing for the final flight from their makeshift camp to Orynth. That's when Manon's worst nightmare manifested as an inescapable reality. A dark circle appeared in the ground several yards from where the leaders stood discussing battle strategy.

The thirteen instinctively formed a defense around their Queen, as Erawan himself rose up through it, a collared Dorian in tow. She could sense all three WrydKeys inside Dorian. She stared at his darkened eyes in hope that there might be some of him left like last time but to no apparent effect.

Forcing herself to focus on the bigger picture, Manon quickly realized that she had to de-escalate the situation or this would quickly become a massacre. "Stand down!" She ordered in her Queen's voice echoing across the clearing in a commanding tone. The gathered forces all obeyed and an unnatural silence fell upon the camp.

The Thirteen turned to look at her like she was crazy. She simply shook her head at them. _We can't win this battle anymore._ She could see the fear on their faces as they understood her message, a sight she had not seen since the Valg Prince had attacked them, and it strengthened her resolve: she would save them whether it meant she had to Yield or yield.

"Your Majesty." Erawan mocked with a tilt of his head, his eyes on the crown of stars on her head. Swallowing, she stepped forward beyond the Thirteen to face him alone, leaving five feet between them and thousands of eyes upon them.

"Your Majesty." Manon forced herself to mimic his greeting and gathered some bravado so she could speak without her voice shaking although she couldn't hide the dread in it. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

He chuckled at her attempt to stay composed. "As you can see, I have all three WrydKeys. This world is mine for the taking and resistance is futile. I have come to offer you salvation." He smiled beautifully with an edge of cruelty and stalked closer to her with an otherworldly grace. It took all of her iron will not to retreat as he continued to taunt her. "Forget this silly nonsense and return to your rightful place at my side." He paused, close enough for her to feel his breathe on her face. "As my Queen."

Her eyes went wide in shock. He had not once shown interest. She always knew when males desired her, it was clear in their eyes but with him she had only ever sensed his power and no emotions whatsoever. However the way he looked at her now left no illusions as to his intentions. She trembled slightly at the memory of Kaltain's body and Elide's description of the creatures that had been bred using the Yellowlegs coven she served up to him. If anything his smirk widened at the sight of his effect on her and she clenched her hands into fists to still herself.

"I thought you already had a witch alliance." Manon rebuffed, referencing her grandmother.

"They are but vassals. However if I were to be the King of Witches, they would become my people." The back of his hand brushed her cheek, setting off several growls from behind her. "And I protect what is mine."

No he would abuse what is his. She had seen enough evidence of that. The offer on the table was that he would do it to her instead of them.

Aelin had done this. She had given herself up to Maeve knowing she would suffer in the worst ways for a long time. She did it for a single person, their mutual friend Elide. Could she not do it for all the witches gathered before her and the ones who weren't? Goddess only knows what he would do to them otherwise. Morath held fates far worse than death and Dorian had told her that with the keys, Erawan wouldn't need the rings and collars anymore. He could let his armies take over any hosts, even witches, and summon his brothers.

If she gave into the Yielding, she wasn't sure if it would be enough to kill him but it would certainly kill everyone she cared about as they were currently in range of the explosion.

Had it really come to this? Was her best option to throw herself at the supposed mercy of a cruel creature who was sure to break his word? No, she had to find a way out from under his thumb but to do that she would need to play along until she could come up with a plan.

"There has never been a Witch King." Glennis stated firmly, daring to interrupt the Dark King. She could not bear to see him treat her great granddaughter this way.

She could see he was considering striking down the old crone for her audacity. She knew he was pausing to give her an opportunity to save her last living direct blood relation by accepting his offer.

Manon knew only one thing for certain in that moment: there was nothing in this world that was worse than him. His greed and cruelty were unparalleled and she would not wish him on her worst enemies, let alone her sisters.

"I suppose there's a first time for everything." Manon forced herself to meet his gaze and spoke as calmly as she could manage.

She looked back at her coven, at the eyes that pleaded for her not to do this, as she uttered the Words of Damnation. "Very well. I accept."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever work on AO3. I'm not too sure how to use the ratings and tags so if anyone has suggestions, please leave a comment. I will try to add them as chapters progress to make them more accurate. Thanks!


	2. Agnus Dei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon has to convince her witches of the change in plans and make peace with her choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agnus Dei means Lamb of God in Latin. In the bible, it is used to refer to Jesus as the one who will 'take away the sins of the world'.

_I'm headed straight for the castle_   
_They wanna make me their queen_   
_And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean_

_I'm headed straight for the castle_   
_They've got the kingdom locked up_   
_And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut_

**\- Castle by Halsey**

* * *

To say tensions were high in the main war tent was an understatement. They had held their tongues earlier as their Queen had commanded but now that the war council was gathered, her generals were quick to tear her to pieces.

Manon did not know if Asterin spoke first to soften the blow or because she could hold her tongue no longer. "You can't possibly intend to go through with this?!"

Before she could answer, Bronwen jumped in. "You summoned us to war and now you want us to surrender."

Manon was not cowed at either of their angry faces and remained calm. "My objective has always been to protect witch lives, to bring us home. That has not changed, it will never change."

Another Crochan general whose name she could not recall bite out a snarl that was almost mutinous. "You want us to live on our knees for him!"

Manon let some of her own fury out in her sharp reply. "I want you to _live_ instead of dying in _vain_. Only a fool would insist on fighting a battle that cannot be won. Do not let your pride be the death of all your kind. He could annihilate us in a heartbeat with those stones. _Gods_ fear their power, we would be crazy not to pay heed to that."

Manon was grateful when Petrah reminded them of the facts and redirected the discussion. "Our Queen learned about these Wyrdkeys from a witch mirror made by Rhiannon Crochan herself. I have no doubt what she says is true. This war is indeed over whether our allies know it or not. If there is any way of getting word to them, we should do it now discreetly. If we are caught, I'm sure the price will be our heads."

Ghislaine shook her head. "He can travel by portal. How can we be faster than that?"

Manon turned to Glennis. "Is there a sister glass in Orynth that we could use?"

Glennis narrowed her eyes, sensing the distraction and dismissal. "None that I am aware of but we will look my Queen."

The other Crochans left to help. Petrah also made to leave but Manon bid her to stay behind with her Thirteen. Now that the Crochan council was dealt with, she had to face her Ironteeth sisters. Before her own coven could start in on her, Manon turned to the Blueblood heir. "You are the Blueblood Matron now that your mother has fled. What does the Iron Maiden say?"

"I see the wisdom in reassessing our plans, but we would be fools to not consider the repercussions of having betrayed the Ironteeth alliance." Petrah went on to a full assessment. "Iskra is the Yellowlegs Matron now. Your grandmother is still holding on to her position for the moment but only by Erawan's will. The other Blackbeaks doubt her leadership since she fled your battle. If you marry Erawan, I have no doubt she will lose his favor and the two of us can win any vote held."

"But?" Vesta prompted, sensing more.

"We cannot declare Manon the Queen of the Ironteeth without Iskra agreeing." Petrah stated, more versed in these matters as an Heir.

"Maybe you can get Erawan to kill her." Lin suggested almost jokingly.

"No." Manon shook her head. "No more blue blood will be spilled if I can help it. Besides, it is easier to deal with one person than an entire Clan. They follow her command so we just need to handle her as best we can."

Manon inclined her head to the Blueblood. "I am sorry if this means you will not get your long overdue justice Petrah."

"A small price to pay for our people." Petrah smiled in sympathy, knowing that her sacrifice paled in comparison to the one Manon was preparing to make. She bowed her head in farewell. "May the Mother watch over you Manon."

With that she deftly left the Thirteen to what was sure to be an explosive argument.

"We are Blackbeaks," Asterin said, her chin high. "We are no one's slaves."

"Not slaves but subjects. It is better this way." Manon sighed.

"Better for whom?" Vesta demanded, practically stomping her foot.

"Would you rather have him as your conqueror than your King?" Manon could not stop from her voice from breaking or her head from dipping. "Either way I will be his."

Horror bloomed in their eyes, not just at her words but the surrender itself. In a hundred years of leading them, Manon had never once shown weakness but faced with utter defeat, she did not see the point in sugar coating the situation.

Sorrel, her strong and steady Third, fell to her knees and clutched Manon's hands in a desperate appeal. "No, my Queen. We would rather die than see him hurt you."

"Then I would advise you to look away because one life is not worth eight thousand and I want you all to live for me." She helped Sorrel off the ground and turned to the rest of them. "Sometimes it is better to give than to wait for him to take."

"What if it is the breaking he enjoys?" Asterin yelled, looking ready to rip her hair out. "We all saw what he did to Kaltain."

Manon shivered. "I do not pretend to think myself beyond harm from him but consider the fact that he approached me as soon as his victory was assured."

It was Imogen who indulged her. "He did not want to risk you slipping away or suspecting beforehand. You must be important to him."

"Yes but why? Because he wants her in his bed? Because he wants her to bear his children? He spoke of marriage." Ghislaine pondered out loud. "He is a true immortal; we are talking about forever."

A hot and fresh panic rose inside Manon. "Surely he can't do that?"

"Binding one life force to another is possible, the Fae do it if they find mortal mates. The shorter lifespan usually wins out but with the keys, all bets are off."

Manon barely made it to the chamber pot before she threw up the contents of her stomach. She was vaguely aware of Thea holding back her hair while Kaya rubbed soothing circles into her her back.

Manon had never cried before in her life. Certainly not from despair or in front of others but she did not care as she curled up on the floor and began to sob with her whole body.

She could handle the shame in her submission. It was hard for a Queen in her prime, at the height of her power, but Manon was willing to swallow her pride. Hadn't she offered her precious freedom to Dorian a few nights ago? Albeit the Princeling would never truly hurt her on purpose and his lifespan was more limited than hers.

Manon knew she could have chosen to fight the Valg King even if defeat was inevitable, but she'd end up in his castle regardless. The truth was he did not need all these witches to control her, he just needed one that she cared about: Asterin. Based on the lie the Bloodhound had told her, he already knew that. If she had to sell her soul to the devil, she would at least make sure to get the best bargain possible.

Perhaps she deserved this fate as punishment for all the females she had allowed him to hurt as Wing Leader- Kaltain, the Yellowlegs coven.

But forever with Erawan? Did she really deserve an eternity of him? She prayed to Three Faced Goddess more devoutly than ever before in her miserable existence as her coven formed a cocoon around her and held her in comfort. She did not ask for mercy or relief. Only for the strength to endure this.

When she finally recovered and managed to sit up, she looked into the eyes of her beloved family and asked them once again, "Will you follow me?"

As one, they touched their fingers to their brows.

Manon returned the gesture. "We are the Thirteen, from now until the Darkness claims us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! Manon is nowhere near down for the count but she needed a 'nameless is my price' moment for herself.


	3. A Dramatic Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Manon is summoned to Morath, she makes an entrance worthy of song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time Erawan had the element of surprise and forced Manon's hand by using the gathered crowd. Now it is Manon's turn to take control of the narrative. This scene was inspired by the legend of Lady Godiva and a scene from the Helen of Troy miniseries; two very beautiful, noble women married to unreasonable husbands who they resisted despite the massive power differential in those times.

_Take control of who you are_  
_Stay the same don't let them change you_  
_Take control of who you are_  
_Cause ain't nobody going to save you_

_Take control of who you are_  
_When the world is getting stranger_  
_Take control of who you are_  
_Show the people what you're made of_

**\- Take Control by Kodaline**

* * *

Manon did not need her leather and steel battle armor for the war that would be her marriage. No this was a different kind of battlefield, but she was no lesser warrior and would rise to the challenge with her wit and resolve. She had not bothered to discuss her plan with the Thirteen or the other witch leaders. She would not be able to rely on their counsel for some time and the sooner she got used to that the better.

She was back in Morath once again, a place she thought she had escaped once and for all. Her carriage pulled up to the bridge that laid over the moat of the Keep. The new towers demonstrated that Erawan had reconstructed the damage dealt by Kaltain, as if the setback would be wiped from history and never spoken of again. She noted his reluctance to acknowledge his failures for future consideration.

The carriage was spacious and fancy, but it could have been a prison wagon for all she cared. A gilded cage was still a cage but hers was a spirit that could not be tamed, and she would make that statement loud and clear today without uttering a single word. They stopped in front of a long gravel path to the entrance.

A crowd of Valg creatures, human servants and witches had gathered to watch her arrival and soldiers lined the walkway to form a barricade. Others observed from within the Keep as well. As she prepared to make her grand entrance, she wondered if Aelin would appreciate the performance she was about to stage and a playful smirk answered her. She blinked away the bittersweet memory and did not allow herself to wonder what became of the others. They were not her concern. She was not their Queen.

The coachman announced her with her requested introduction, his voice booming across the grounds. "Presenting Her Royal Majesty Manon Blackbeak-Crochan. Heir of the Blackbeak Witch-Clan, bearer of the blade Wind-Cleaver, rider of the wyvern Abraxos, possessor of the eyes of the Valg Kings, Wing Leader of the Ironteeth aerial legion, Queen of the Crochans, the last living descendant of Rhiannon Crochan and the bride of His Dark Majesty Lord Erawan."

She had tacked his claim on at the very end, hoping the subtle jab would find its mark. The doors to her carriage opened and the clouds parted above her as Manon stepped out into the rare patch of sunlight that had penetrated Morath's gloom, as if Goddess herself was shining a spotlight on her.

She kept her head up and shoulders back- channeling the effortless, immortal grace of a Fae Queen. She wore her hair of shimmering moonlight down and only the Crown of Stars adorned her otherwise nude body. Her pace was gradual enough to show that she was not rushing but still brisk enough to leave them wanting a longer look. This would not be a walk of shame, of surrender. She would turn it into a walk of pride.

Let the demons leer as they pleased; they could never fathom what was beneath her glowing alabaster skin: an unbreakable will of iron. She was a viper that would wait, hidden and patient, for the opportunity to strike a fatal blow.

Let her witches see that their Queen was not truly defeated, what she offered willingly to a demon for their sake. Let her strength and sacrifice fuel their own courage, dignity, and hope in these dark times.

She did not need to hide behind armor, makeup, or dresses. She wore her own skin as comfortably as she did her best leathers. Manon was proud of her body- she has earned every muscle and scar on it.

While she has never cared for her beauty, it was a weapon in her arsenal, and she would use it today. She was the most beautiful female in the world and no male could be unaffected by it. Perhaps she could use their desire to establish her own power base here, maybe even with Erawan himself.

The gravel cut into her feet and they began to bleed. She did not flinch or falter in her stride. Her pain and blood were an offering to the Triple Goddess, spilled in prayer, as the Bluebloods often did. She trailed a path of blue across the grounds and through the Keep, all the way to her destination.

As she approached the throne room, she spotted Erawan lounging on his throne of Wrydstone. Beside him, there is an empty throne of iron waiting for her. She realized that his seat boosted his own power while hers would hopefully shield her from the effects of his somewhat. How considerate of him.

The iron throne was a gorgeous amalgamation of many swords melded together. Perhaps it had been crafted by the same blacksmith who had made their armor. She would like to think he was still alive, a familiar face if nothing else.

The prospect of sitting by his side, as if she condoned everything he did, made her stomach turn. She supposed it was better than sitting on his lap or at his feet but even then, she would not have lost her grace and dignity. He could not take them from her, she would have to give them up and that was going to happen anytime soon.

She did not make the mistake of assuming that he was willing to share power. No, he wanted her to watch the things he did so he could derive enjoyment from her reactions.

He had straightened in his seat at the sight of her. She noted the surprise in his eyes and awe in the slackness of jaw. She watched as desire tightened his face, his nostrils flared, and his fingers curled on the armrests. Their golden eyes locked in a heated gaze and the air between them filled up with tension. She wondered if he would take her on that throne right then or if his restraint would last until their wedding night. The thought sent a thrill through her, even though he was her enemy. Maybe she had a type.

There were some guards splattered about the room, mere shells of the humans they once were, and no sign of Dorian. Good- one less thing to worry about for the moment. The doors had shut behind the guards who had trailed her throughout the procession. She stopped at the foot of the Dias and threw the ball in his court.

"Manon my dear." He greeted at last, his voice both young and not. "Would you care to explain your appearance?"

She tilted her head to the side. "You wanted them to see the prize you have won, did you not?"

He leaned forward. "What if I had sought to keep your beauty for myself?" A threat.

She refused to apologize. "Let them look all they want. They cannot have me." She challenged. _Can you?_

He finally rose out of his seat and approached her, his eyes continuing to devour her.

His gaze stopped abruptly at her feet and he blinked. "You are injured."

Erawan gestured to one of the guards behind her who had brought her discarded clothes from the carriage. Almost tenderly he wrapped her in the red Crochan cloak before picking her up in his arms. She was so shocked that she did not resist or question him even as he carried her through the castle, up the steps of a tower and deposited her on a bed with black sheets.

"This is your room, your tower. I will send a healer for your feet." With that, he walked out.

Manon did not know what to make of it. She had walked in here, feeling very sure of herself and her plan but the Valg King's reaction threw her for a loop.

She drew the cloak tighter around herself and tried her best not to think about how very alone she was in this Keep. Not the commander of a legion like last time but a girl in a tower like Elide and Kaltain had been. She had saved the former and the latter had wielded her mighty magic to save them both in turn.

She turned to the window and gazed at the barren landscape beyond. Was this to be her view for the rest of her days? Would she ever see the Western Sea beyond the Wastes? She shook her head. It did not matter. If staying here kept her witches safe then that would be enough. It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This artwork inspired the ending for this chapter: [ Manon Blackbeak BY Merwild ](https://www.deviantart.com/merwild/art/Manon-Blackbeak-639751627)


	4. Demons and Dining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone at last, Manon and Erawan discuss their upcoming nuptials and the Valg-Witch alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a number of SylarxClaire fics from the Heroes fandom that address how to spend eternity with your enemy and not go crazy.

_The truth is hiding in your eyes_   
_And it's hanging on your tongue_   
_Just boiling in my blood_   
_But you think that I can't see_

_What kind of man that you are_   
_If you're a man at all_   
_Well, I will figure this one out_   
_On my own_

**\- Decode by Paramore**

* * *

By the time the healer arrived, the cuts on her feet had long since closed and the mousy girl applied some salve before bandaging them up.

Manon did not let herself wallow for long. She tried to think of what she would do in Erawan's position. If she had the ability to get whatever she wanted, why would she still bother with allies?

Moves rarely made sense unless one understood the desires behind them. He always had multiple motives when it came to his plans- and she usually did not discover them until afterwards. Without that knowledge, it was difficult to see his endgame.

Was he toying with her for amusement, forcing her back to his side so he could punish her for the betrayal? Was he driven by possessiveness and simply enjoy regaining control of the race he had created with his brothers?

She hadn't seen Dorian since she arrived, and his absence made her nervous. At least when Erawan was taunting her with his presence she knew where he was. She wondered if there was anything left of him or if the Wrydkeys had driven him mad like Kaltain. Her eyes lined with silver and she tilted her head up, blinking the tears away. She could not let herself feel this way. She did not wish to find out what Erawan would do if he discovered the full extent of her feelings for the Princeling.

She needed to consolidate her hold on the Ironteeth aerial legion and re-establish herself as Wing Leader. Goddess only knows what ruin they would fall into under Iskra's command. The possibilities ranged from unnecessary losses among their ranks to a bloodlust driven force with less discipline than Erawan's Valg soldiers.

She also made a list of potential human allies within the castle that she could reach out to: the blacksmith, the laundresses, perhaps Elide had won some friends in the kitchen as well. He would not expect her to collaborate outside her own race and as long as she was subtle, she could use the unseen servants to her advantage.

Her scheming was interrupted by an invitation to dinner, delivered by a guard. At least it wasn't Vernon come to mock her. She wondered where the slimy Lord had ended up after his failure to deliver Elide and she hoped he was dead somehow despite his attempts to reach out at that last meeting.

There was little point in showing up to dinner still wrapped in only the cloak. Manon left the red cloth on the bed and walked over to the closet to see someone had moved her clothes from previous stay to her new room. There were also some expensive looking clothes she had never seen before. This was a test to see what she wore given the choice. Manon donned her witch leathers and set aside her crown of stars. Erawan would be a lot more likely to discuss matters openly with the Manon Blackbeak he had known rather with the Queen of Witches. A play to get past his pretenses and glimpse his true intent.

The guard escorted her to a torch-lit balcony that overlooked the mountains behind Morath. Manon paused in surprise. She had expected the dreaded council room. 

To her further shock, she saw fresh meat and wine on a small round table on a balcony. Erawan sat in one of the two chairs in his usual fine clothes.

Manon had never been alone with him before. She had never made that mistake until now. As the retreating servants closed the glass double doors behind them, she felt like a rat in a trap until the wind on her face that reminded her of who she was. _You are no less than him._ She had to deduce his motives, find leverage where she could and maneuver herself into a position of strength.

He stood up in greeting and pulled out the chair for her. 

She made herself accept the offer when all she wanted to do was sneer and rage at the gesture. She loathed this twisted game where they pretended that this was courtship, as if any part of her even remotely wanted to return to this cage and its keeper. Yet Manon knew that it was better to be a player than a pawn, if only to minimize collateral damage. Pieces of herself and others would have to be strategically sacrificed in order to create a sanctuary apart from Erawan's empire.

He sat back down across from her and they ate in silence until he went for the opening blow.

"You have not asked about Orynth," Erawan mused, his voice as lovely as it was cruel. "Are you not curious?"

She swallowed down the dread that rose in her throat. She almost didn't want to know what had happened after she failed to uphold her promise. Had those witch towers destroyed the city or had it fallen to the Ironteeth legion and Valg hordes? Were any of Aelin's court and allies even alive? Remembering who sat before her, she knew they would be better off dead.

"You will tell me when you want me to know." Manon replied, leaning back in her seat.

"What if I never want to?" Erawan asked, his head tilting forward, those gold eyes gleaming dangerously.

Manon chuckled in amusement to cover the shiver that crawled up her spine at the ravenous glance.

"You can stop pretending." They both knew he wouldn't be able to resist shoving it in her face and he was just toying with her. "There is no audience here. You got everything you wanted."

"Not everything. Not yet. But I can take my time." The corner of his mouth turned upwards at the irony of her own joke thrown back at her.

She looked at the fading light of the horizon. "Yes, I suppose you have forever."

He saw through her and locked in on her anxiety. "You were always immortal, as you liked to remind me."

She sat up at that, livid that he was making light of this. "No, I am long lived. There can be no life without death. Our minds are not built to last forever even if our bodies do."

He smirked at how riled she was. "Eternity can be a gift or a curse Manon. It is what you make of it. I would not have chosen you if I did not think you could handle it." He covered her hand with his own. "You will not have to face it alone."

It took considerable effort not to let her iron nails slide out and pierce his hand. That would teach him not to be so condescending, but she knew it would not be her who paid for such a defiance. He did not need to speak the threat for her to know it was the necks of those she loved that would be on the chopping block if she did not behave for him.

Clamping down on her rage and misery at the circumstances, Manon wondered if that's why he was marrying her. Was he lonely? As if the Devil could feel such things. She pulled her hand out from beneath his on the table. "Why are you doing this? I will never love you." Surely he had to know that.

"Does that matter? You will be my wife." He cupped her cheek and stroked it like he had done in the clearing. This time his intensity in his gaze was almost more than she could take, and she steeled herself to not look away. She would never show such weakness to him. Still she did not have to endure his touch more than necessary. She leaned away from his hand. 

"Our union will take place in a fortnight. I thought of asking your grandmother to give you away, but you are not hers anymore." He looked to her stomach and his cool rage reminded her of Dorian's reaction. "She should not have tried to kill you."

He raised his glass in a toasting gesture. "You will find her in the dungeons. A wedding present."

Manon could not hide her astonishment. "What about your deal with her?" 

"She has outlived her usefulness." Erawan dismissed.

She should be relieved that she would not have to wrestle with the Matron for control of the Blackbeaks. She should be glad to have called this eventual betrayal from that very first meeting with Erawan in his true form. All she could focus on was that he was breaking his word. If he could betray the witch with whom he forged his last alliance with, how could she convince anyone to recognize this new one?

"How do I know you won't just turn around and do this to me?" Manon demanded, shaking her head in disbelief.

He considered her question and looked her over as if he could see the soul within her body before he answered. "Because I respect you. She sold them for a crown, you sold yourself for them. This is why you are a Queen and your grandmother is not."

She hated him for how he treated her and her witches. She could see how he was displacing her grandmother simply so he would the only one wielding power over her. Yet there was a sincerity to his praise that filled her with pride and horror. Manon would not let her guard down. She had fought for the other side and that would not go unpunished no matter what he said now. 

Sensing that they would not get anywhere further tonight, Erawan kissed her hand in farewell and bid her a good night. After he had left, Manon stayed on the balcony for a while longer and wondered why he was pretending to be considerate when they both knew it was not his style. Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of safety before he pulled the rug out from under her feet? She had a fortnight to figure out exactly what she was getting herself into and she would not waste it. Tomorrow she would start moving her own pieces within the Keep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to update this weekly but I'm having a hard time writing out some of these chapters so it may be monthly instead. I have a lot of chapters outlined though so it's gonna be a long ride.


	5. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon learns she is not the only Queen at Morath and decides to pay a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: I wrote a lot for this story over the holiday weekend and have 3 future chapters fully done. Bad news: they are not the next few chapters. Overall: When we get to those, the updates will be weekly instead of monthly.
> 
> I just realized this is the only ManonxErawan story on this site and I haven't given them a ship name. I'm between Manera and Merawan. Any thoughts?

_I'm the voice inside your head you refuse to hear_  
 _I'm the face that you have to face, mirrored in your stare_  
 _I'm what's left, I'm what's right,_ _I'm the enemy_  
 _I'm the hand that will take you down, bring you to your knees_

_What if I say I'm not like the others?_   
_What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?_   
_You're the pretender_   
_What if I say I will never surrender?_

**\- The Pretender by Foo Fighters**

* * *

According to the cook who had been fond of Elide Lochan, there was a mystery guest staying in the southeast tower in the wing opposite to hers. He had been sending up small feasts every day and the servants who delivered these meals were not allowed to take them inside. Instead the food was sent up and the plates were brought down by a pulley system operated by the guards stationed there. No one was seen going in or out of the tower.

She checked with the laundresses who told her that they were cleaning bed and table linens for the tower through the same delivery apparatus. She wondered why no clothes needed to be washed if someone was indeed up there. One possibility was that the person didn't need clothes or wasn't allowed any. Manon shuddered at the implication of the latter.

Manon knew Erawan had prisoners of war. He had mentioned them at their dinners as possible wedding guests. Who would warrant their own tower in Morath rather than a dungeon cell in the new northern stronghold of Orynth? It had to be someone important and was worth looking into.

So she performed some reconnaissance of her own, making a casual sweep towards the entrance during her usual morning walk. She picked up a faint and familiar scent. Closing her eyes, she tried to pinpoint its presence in her memory and found herself on a sandy beach near the Stone Marshes of Eyllwe, gazing at a beautiful woman of majestic grace and dark aura. The Fae Queen Maeve.

She had enslaved Aelin in an attempt to claim the Keys for herself. Even if Erawan possessed them now, it did not explain her presence or her apparent status as captive.

This was an opportunity to, at worst, gain some information and, at best, win an unlikely ally. As humans liked to say, the enemy of her enemy is her friend.

Once Elide was out of harm's way, Manon could admit she had admired the ruthlessness and cunning with which the Queen had pulled off her plan. She could be a powerful player to have on her side, but she recalled what Fenrys had said about her inability to share power. It reminded her of Ghislaine's warning that the Valg would only abide by any alliance if it remained useful to them.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Manon needed to start building some momentum before time ran out. The wedding was fast approaching, and she was still flying blind. Between her gold eyes, sharp nose, and vigilant mind, she believed that she could discern what was genuine from the webbing of whatever trap the other Queen might lay for her.

Unfortunately, the Tower did not have a balcony, only a barred window. She could not fly up there on a 'borrowed' witch broom and even if she could, she would be seen. If sneaking in was not an option, all that remained was walking in through the front door. She donned her Crown of Stars, clipped Wind Cleaver to her belt and tugged on her red cloak.

She strode towards the tower entrance with purpose and confident.

"Move." She ordered the guards with a sweep of her hand.

"I'm afraid we can't do that ma'am." One of them answered. From the way, the others flanked him she assumed he oversaw the unit.

"Do you know who I am?" Manon asked haughtily, releasing her iron nails as a hint. The guard glanced at her talons and then her crown.

Putting the pieces together, he swallowed. "Yes, Your Majesty but we were ordered by the King himself to let no one in or out without his specific dispensation."

""You have three option before you." She could easily tear through these men but why bother to get that putrid, black blood on her clothes when words were enough. "You can die a quick death at my hand for your refusal, you can die a slow death at my hands of my husband-to-be when he hears you denied his beloved bride or you can realize that these matters are beyond you and live to see another day."

The guards gave way, but she has no doubt that Erawan will hear of her visit. She shook her head to clear her thoughts as she made her way up the steep, spiral staircase. She would cross that bridge when she had to see him at dinner tonight. Hopefully, she would be armed with an ace up her sleeve by then.

When she reached the top, she was met with applause. "That was quite a performance."

"I figure there has to be some advantage to being his betrothed." Manon intoned, retracting her iron nails.

Maeve's face softened slightly. She gestured for Manon to sit down across her at the table near the barred window.

The two Queens appraised each other until Maeve broke the silence. "You risk his wrath coming here. I assume it is for more than the pleasure of my company."

"I want to know what I am getting into." Manon stated.

She braced for Maeve to make her bargain for the information, but the Fae Queen speaks after several moments of quiet contemplation.

"Just like the witches, the Valg are not inherently evil. It is their Kings who have an endless greed for conquest and choose to rule through pain and fear. Erawan's the youngest so he has always looked up to his brothers and sought their respect. He is milder than them, but this allows him to play the long game and invent the most creative ways to hurt people."

A plethora of useful insight, Manon committed the words to her memory. It was beyond what she had hoped for and yet knowing how much worse this would get did not comfort her in the least.

"Why is he doing this to me?" Manon asked, not really expecting an answer.

Maeve looked her up and down, slowly. "He desires you and every King needs a Queen."

She swallowed down her disgust. "Why is he keeping you here?"

Maeve stayed silent so long that Manon was ready to take her leave. "He will give me to his brother, the husband I escaped when I ran away to this world and hid among the Fae."

Manon's jaw loosened. A Queen of the Valg sat before her. Her future sister-in-law.

Meave looked frightened. "Orcus has been seeking me for millennia now. Whatever punishment he imposes will last at least half as long."

It could be an act, but Manon reached out anyway and grasped the other Queen's hand in solidarity.

"You do not hate me for bringing them here?" Maeve asked in confusion at the gesture.

"My race would not exist otherwise. I would not blame a wife for the sins of her husband. That would be terrible precedent." They shared a grim smile at their shared fate.

"Why did you accept his proposal?" The Valg Queen inquired.

"I knew he would have me one way or another. I decided to buy the lives of my witches by saying yes." Manon explained.

"You remind me of myself when I was young." Maeve smiled sadly in remembrance. "I thought I could endure him for a while and escape him later."

Sensing the other woman's attention going elsewhere, Manon bowed her head to the Queen in thanks and rose from her seat. She paused at the threshold when Maeve delivered her parting words of advice.

"He has honor, twisted at it might be. He has mercy, cruel as it might be. He is arrogant but do not underestimate him, Manon. He will not fall for the same tricks twice."

Manon considered those words as she got ready for dinner that night. She walked into her closet and examined the unfamiliar outfits. If he truly desired her then why not use that to offset whatever ire her visit may have invoked?

When she stepped out onto the balcony, Erawan blinked rapidly several times as if he could not believe what he was seeing. His eyes traveled up and down her body in appreciation. He was so preoccupied that she had reached the table and he had still not risen to pull out her chair for her as he always did.

She tapped her foot and gave him a look that said, 'well are you going to keep me waiting?'. He stood and made his way around the small table but stopped again at the sight of her from behind.

 _Males_. Even when they had already seen you bare; a bit of clothing could still drive them into stupor. The floor-length black lace gown walked the fine line between temptation and elegance. It had thin straps, a V-neck, black underlining until mid-thigh and a slit on one side to the same point. From behind, it boldly dipped to the small of her back with two parallels of crisscrossing strings across the middle.

Manon knew her decoy had worked when he placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the seat, a new move to their routine.

"You look stunning tonight." He admitted as he resumed his place across from her.

"Don't I always?" She threw back with a tilt of her head, one she usually reserved for prey on a hunt.

"Indeed you do, my Lady." Erawan smirked at the banter, amused at her sudden playfulness. "I merely have not seen you in a dress before. Is there an occasion I should be aware of?"

"Do I need one?" She countered, smoothing the front of it simply to draw his gaze there. "Maybe I just thought it was a waste to let this languish in the wardrobe."

"No mortal finery could ever be truly worthy of your ethereal beauty." He proclaimed with more intensity than she had ever heard from him.

For a moment, she almost forgot who they were and where they were. Maybe the distraction was working too well.

Manon set about eating dinner and Erawan followed suit, more out of politeness than hunger it would seem. Sensing her unwillingness to revisit their earlier repartee, he moved on to other topics after they had finished their meal.

"How was your day?" He ventured, giving her a chance to tell him about her trip to Maeve's tower. How tactful of him.

"Eventful. I met your sister. Well I'd met her before once but I wasn't aware of the relation at the time. What a small world we live in." All true statements but nothing to expose her motives or the outcome of the meeting. Lying was for amateurs. An expert could twist the truth into achieving their intended deception and she had no doubt she was playing against a master of the art form.

"Yes, I could not turn her away when she came to me, seeking refuge after she was ousted from the Fae kingdom." Erawan told her, failing to mention that she was not allowed to leave.

"Yes, how tragic, to lose a crown. It seems she made too many enemies among those she ruled." A brazen taunt that was clearly not meant for Maeve. She may not have dared to provoke him last night, but the game had changed. "Perhaps she should have treated them better."

"Or maybe her hold was not tight enough." He answered, the threat thinly veiled behind political debate. "Fortunately, she has another throne to her name. I'm sure she is eager to return to our home world to reclaim it and reunite with my dear brother who has missed her terribly."

"Should I expect to see your brothers at our wedding?" Manon asked as casually as she could, sipping her wine to hide her reaction to his response. One Valg King she might be able to manage somehow but three, the other two supposedly worse than Erawan? What chance did she stand in the face of that?

"Oh no. Family reunions are such _special_ events." He said with a smile that promised joy for himself and pain for everyone else. "There is still much left to do to prepare this world for their arrival."

"I see. What a shame." Manon said despite feeling the exact opposite way. The relief flooded her veins like a healing tonic. There was still time to stop him. "Marriage is the joining of two families after all." 

"You have a point. Your cousin Asterin should join us for dinner one night so I might get to know yours." He replied, finally returning fire.

Manon's eyebrows furrowed despite her attempt to keep her face blank as she assessed the offer and decided it was a threat.

"The Thirteen are very busy on assignments at the moment." On purpose so he would not get a hold of them easily. She could not guarantee her Second's safety in his Keep regardless of his assurances.

"I'm surprised that none stayed behind to guard you. Witch covens have strict protocols about these things, don't they?" He asked rhetorically.

She almost seethed at the implication that she could not defend herself from whatever roamed these halls. Maybe she would need back up against those that dwell under the mountains but she was a deadly warrior, not some damsel in distress. _The only threat here is you and you want them here so you can use them against me._

Instead, she forced herself to calm down and turned the question on its head. "Surely I have no need for guards here since I have your protection and you control this Keep." He could not refute this without admitting to weakness on his part.

"Of course. I just thought you might miss their company." He backtracked.

"We spent many years scattered. It is only recently that we were able to reassemble." She informed him. She would not give him credit him for that even if it were true. He deserved no thanks when he did it for his own horrible, selfish needs.

"I know what it's like to be in exile, separated from your family." He took both her hands in his. "I will help you gain back your land as I promised once the legion has secured the continent for me."

She did not know if he was just an excellent actor, but she believed his sincerity. It bothered her enough that she made an excuse to leave and considered the implications on the way back to her room.

Aelin and Dorian could only forge the lock but the Valg being true immortals could wield the mighty WyrdKeys to accomplish great feats. Even if she found a way out of this wedding, could she take it knowing that this may be their best chance to break the curse and return home? The question kept her tossing and turning that night for a good, long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Note: These chapter are starting to get quite long. They started at 1k and now exceed 2k. Rowan was right about clothes being weapons. Here is [Manon's dinner dress](https://www.simplydresses.com/shop/viewitem-PD1238862).


	6. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Manon finally get a chance to see each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently read the original FictionPress story 'Queen of Glass' so this chapter is inspired by a feature of that story that did not make it into the novels. Chapter title comes from the Eurthymics song.

_ Someday love will find you  
Break those chains that bind you  
One night will remind you  
How we touched and went our separate ways  
_

_ If he ever hurts you  
True love won't desert you  
You know I still love you  
Though we touched and went our separate ways _

**_ \- Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) by Journey _ **

* * *

  
Manon had been meditating on her bed when she had drifted off. She was a light sleeper thanks to years of hunting Crochans in the wild. One should never let their guard down in enemy territory unless they wish to wake up to a slit throat.

When she awoke to the whisper of the wooden door opening instead of to a knock or announcement, Manon was ready to fight the intruder. In a flash of movement, she grabbed Wind Cleaver from where it lay hidden beneath a pillow, rolled to the other side of the bed, and dropped into a defensive stance.

"Wait, it's me!" She halted at the sight of familiar Sapphire eyes that she feared she might never see again.

She almost dropped her sword in relief, but paranoia kept it raised. "Why did he send you here?" A trick, a trap, a test?

He walked around the bed. "He didn't."

Her heart warmed at the sound of his voice. She stared at the pale band of skin on his neck from where the collar was. "I don't believe you."

"This is a dream." It became obvious once he said it. The details of the room blurred if she tried to focus on them, only she and Dorian were vivid. "A gift from Maeve."

"And you trust her?" She asked, finally lowering her blade before dropping it on the bed.

"We were working together to try to get the third key when things went south. He made me take away some of her powers. Believe me they are not in cahoots." He elaborated.

"I do. He has been keeping her captive in a tower. When I went to see her, she told me about her identity." She informed him. "How much does he know?" About us was the underlying implication.

"My memories were viewed." Dorian admitted.

Manon's heart almost stopped beating in her chest. Erawan knew of every treachery she had committed as Wing Leader: Elide's rescue and escape, her deceit about the Oakwald incident, how she had saved Dorian twice. More than that he knew of all her weaknesses- the people he could use against her. _Oh Goddess_.

"Manon, you need to breathe." Dorian prompted, taking a step toward her.

She heeded the advice but began to veer into hyperventilation. He came closer and wrapped her up in his arms.

He sat them down on the bed and ran his hands up and down her sides in comfort. "I've got you, witchling."

"How have you not gone insane?" She asked him, peeling his hands off her. "Just one of those Keys hollowed out Kaltain."

"The raw magic may have helped." He speculated. "He did not leave them in me for long."

"Do you know where they are now?" She questioned.

He shook his head.

"What did he make you do with them?" She tried instead.

"I think he opened some doors." His brows scrunched in concentration. "I was occupied with fighting the Princes."

Her golden eyes widened. "Princes as in more than one?"

"Three." He grimaced, fighting off a shiver. "Lest I use the Keys against him."

"Are _they_ still in your body right now?" She prayed not for the sake of his sanity.

"No, he took them out." He said. "Said the next time he puts one in me; he won't need a collar."

"Where is he keeping you?" She needled.

He took her hand in his. "It does not matter."

She knew why he was refusing to tell her. To prevent her from attempting a doomed rescue or even a visit. He feared what Erawan would do to her if she were caught. She worried what might become of him outside her view.

"This might be your only chance to get out, Dorian." She pleaded. Had she ever said his name out loud before?

"I think he wants me to dread it, keep me bracing for the blow until I relax and then he will strike." He told her the harsh truth because she needed to hear it. "He might even give me opportunities to escape, just so I can try and fail. Or use me to lay a trap for those who may wish to set me free."

She turned away so he would not see the tears building. He softly turned her head back towards him and brushed them away before they fell. "I knew what I risked. I am only sorry that I failed."

"I do not blame you, princeling." She assured him, reading his hidden thoughts. "I will never blame you for the things he does."

"It kills me that I cannot protect you from him." He admitted, lacing their fingers together.

"I'm not too breakable remember?" She reminded him with a bittersweet smile, squeezing his hand in assurance.

"He came to visit me once. To taunt me about how he will have you." She could feel his cold rage, even without his ice powers.

"He will never have the parts of me that matter." She promised him with fervor.

"At the clearing, they pinned me down and made me watch. Gods I have never wanted to kill him more..." He seethed.

Manon lowered her head in shame. He had seen her victorious crowning, followed by her humiliating surrender. How lowly he must think of her now.

He lifted her head gently and spoke without any malice. "You did what you must to save the lives of your people. No one could fault you for that."

"I broke my word." She replied, voice cracking.

"You tried your best. That is all any of us can do." He said, smoothing her hair and giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I saw you arrive: a glorious ray of light in a sea of darkness." Their eyes locked and she tried to memorize the bright blue shade before they became dark orbs again.

"There is nothing I would not give him to spare you from this fate." She confessed. "I think he knows and he will use it."

"You cannot allow him to rule you, Manon. If you do, he will treat you like the rest of us. Be the mighty Queen I know you to be and he will see you as one." He counselled her.

She had not earned him. This King who spent all his concern on her with none for himself. Maybe she would have if she had been given the chance to fight on his side. For all her mistakes and cowardice, she deserved the King of Darkness who wanted her as a prize rather than a partner.

That did not stop her yearning. Only with him did she ever relinquish control willingly, trusting him as she had no other male. It was easy to do so again, as if nothing had changed between them since their last night together. She began to bare her skin.

"He will punish you if he discovers this." He objected although he did not stop her from disrobing, his own eyes filled with ache for her.

"He will hurt me regardless for my many acts against him." She told him, pushing at his clothes. "A tryst in a dream is the least of my offenses."

Dorian seemed unwilling to risk it, but she knew they both needed this to help them endure the hardships yet to come.

"This may not be real," she waved her hand referencing the dreamscape, "but this," she placed his hand on her heart, "is real. It may be the only thing that ever was."

He could not deny her when she looked at him with such tenderness. If he could offer her even a moment of happiness away from their harsh reality, he would make the most of it. Dorian would worship at her altar as they were safe and together in Rifthold. Even if it was only just a dream.

Their kiss was sweet, almost innocent. Until Manon slipped her tongue into his mouth and brought her hands to his head to pull him down harder on her. Her legs wrapped around his waist like a drowning woman would to a floating log. Her unusual clinging betrayed her fear that this may be the last time for them.

"Eager, are we?" He teased to lighten the mood.

He untangled her hands from where they were coiled in his locks and guided them to the bars of the headboard. Taking the hint, she gripped the iron frame and loosened her legs. He rewarded her compliance by slowly dragging his lips down her body, teasing her skin with his tongue and teeth, while kneading her breasts. Her muscles uncoiled, the tension exiting her.

He pinched her nipples suddenly and a cry came out of her mouth, her chest arching up off the bed. He maintained the pressure until she brought herself back down. Flicking the tips a few times to verify their hardness and set her nerves on fire, he looked up to see her eyes shut. Clever of his witch; the lack of one sense increased the sensations from the others.

He wanted to see her eyes though. Those pools of burnt gold that lit and darkened from his attentions to her body. Pride filled him knowing he was the one who could rile the detached and rigid Wing Leader.

He used his hands to spread her thighs apart and let his breathe warm her opening. Her eyes shot open, annoyed. "What are you waiting for, you fool?"

"The magic words." He smirked, knowing her distaste for pleading under any circumstances.

Her anger flared but for some unknown reason it dissipated before she swore at him. "I missed you, princeling."

The admission stunned him, almost as much as her proposal had. The whisper was spoken with sorrow rather than lust, reminding him that this was farewell. This lone night was all they had, and it was not enough. Forever would not be enough for him when it came to her. 

Words would never convey what he felt for her, so he lowered his head to demonstrate his devotion. He lost himself in her taste, her moans, her heat. It did not take long before she peaked.

He removed what remained of his clothing and covered her trembling body with his. "I am with you always, witchling." He swore, resting his forehead against her. Her hands could not stay away from him any longer. They abandoned all semblance of control as he buried himself in her and they moved as one.

Every breath built towards the crescendo of their passion which arrived all too soon. Sated, they laid beside each other, limbs tangled. Manon fought to keep her eyes open, but they became lidded anyway.

She looked like an angel. He admired the view, regretting that he had not managed to wake up before her in the morning to see this. He held onto her, cherishing every moment. The dream would fade with daylight, but the memory would warm on the cold, dark nights ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured Manon and Dorian both deserve an Erawan-free chapter. Here's the Mix Tape for this scene: Demons by Imagine Dragons, Flashlight by Jessie J, Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley, Daylight by Maroon 5.


	7. Dungeon Dealings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manon finally confronts the Matron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay we are finally going to get into some witch politics. I re-read all of the Matron's interactions with Manon in the series in hope of portraying her accurately.  
> 

_I braved a hundred storms to leave you_   
_As hard as you try, no, I will never be knocked down_   
_I can't keep up with your turning tables_   
_Under your thumb I can't breathe_

_So I won't let you close enough to hurt me_   
_No I won't rescue you to just desert me_   
_I can't give you the heart you think you gave me_   
_It's time to say goodbye to turning tables_

**\- Turning Tables by Adele**

* * *

The reconstructed dungeons were like their predecessors. Manon let her memory and sense of smell guide her, using the walk to collect her thoughts and brace herself for the blows to come. Her grandmother sliced just as deep with her words as she did with her iron. 

She came to a pause at the sight before her. Surely this withered creature huddled in a corner could not be the Blackbeak Matron. Yet Manon recognized the midnight robes and ebony hair. "Grandmother?" She called.

"Come to mock me, have you Manon?" The figure replied, her voice filled with gravel. "I was wondering how long it would take."

"What did he do to you?" She asked, approaching the cell. She stopped a good distance away, her guard up.

"After he conquered Orynth with my witches and towers, the ungrateful bastard turned on me. At least you two will have that in common." She spat with contempt, rising from her position. She wrapped her hands around the bars of her cell. Manon could not help her stare at the missing fingernails.

The Matron noticed and seethed. "He ripped out my iron nails for damaging his prize."

Manon found it hard to believe he would get so upset over the matter. Yes, he had sent the bloodhound and ilken to retrieve her, but she assumed that was to prevent her from aiding his enemies. To deprive an Ironteeth of half her iron... No witch would do it to another, such a terrible thing it was. It was more than their identity; it was a part of their very soul.

Did he intend to make matters so personal? Although she did not believe they had souls, Manon was sure even the Ancient must be crippled by the loss. Despite every horror her grandmother has inflicted on her coven and family, she still felt sympathy for her plight. 

"I am sorry to hear that." She replied earnestly. 

"Softhearted, just like your Crochan father." The Matron scolded, desiring Manon's hate rather her pity. "Do you remember when we took him apart all those years ago? That man who bled blue and begged for his child's life?"

Perhaps the witch wanted a quick death from a moment of rage. She would be disappointed. "I recall that he did not break, even in the end. Neither did my sister nor my mother."

"It does not make them any less dead." She sneered.

"They will be remembered with honor and respect for the sacrifices they made for their people." She answered, before going on the offensive. "When I met with the Blackbeak coven leaders, not even one asked about you. Your power came from lies and threats of punishment. Without them, you are nothing."

"I made you. Everything you are is because of me." This might have hit deep once but she saw the lies she had been fed for what they were- a way to neutralize the threat she posed and control her.

She shook her head. "No, I became strong to endure you. I knew I had to survive, not for my own sake, but for that of the clan. I will reclaim our lost home for them and for all witches. It is too bad you will not see it."

The Ancient's gaze lifted to the crown of stars. "Tell me granddaughter however will you fit so many crowns on that pretty little head of yours? I think you will lose your balance and fall off that pedestal your betrothed has put you on."

"That's the difference between us. You sacrificed witches in your quest to rule them." Manon explained. "Any crown I wear is the price I pay to save their lives. That is why they choose to follow me. They know I will fight for them."

"You are a traitor. Kin Slayer. Witch Killer. You cannot erase these stains." She jeered, eyes overflowing with malice.

"So are you but history is written by the winners. Victory is the difference between a rebellion and a revolution." Manon set the trap.

"I would have crushed you and your weak excuse of a coven on the battlefield, had you not whored yourself to a male for protection." The old witch bellowed, spitting on the floor to demonstrate her disgust.

Manon pivoted, dismissing the insult altogether. "You would have sold me to him as breeding stock, as you did those other witches." 

"You could not save them, even if you managed to put them out of their misery." The Matron retorted. "What makes you think you can save the rest by yourself? You are just a stupid little girl who has no clue what she is doing." 

"She is not alone." A voice from the shadow called out. "I think we have heard enough to judge."

Petrah Blueblood and Iskra Yellowlegs stepped forward.

"No." She screeched, backing away from the bars. The stink of the reeking cell had masked the scents of the two newly crowned High Witches. This was not a legitimate trial! There was no audience, no invocation, no protocol whatsoever. "You did not say the Ancient Words!"

"Us newer Matrons are not so big on ceremonies and speeches." Iskra smiled viciously. 

"I thought to spare you a public trial. Despite everything, you are my own flesh and blood." Manon mocked.

"Manon, please! We are family. Do not do this!" The witch begged. Her pride disappeared in the face of being subject to the torment she had inflicted on others for so long.

"How ironic that you call yourself Mother Blackbeak. What kind of a mother would slay her own daughter on the birthing bed? Or punish another for a still birth?" Manon turned to Iskra. "She is yours. Do as you please. To pay the blood debt between our clans." 

As much as Manon wanted to avenge the suffering the Matron had inflicted on their family and gain closure for herself and Asterin, she knew she better than to indulge in that kind of vindictiveness. She had to use every piece on the board to neutralize the threat posed by Erawan. If this was the price to rally the Ironteeth behind her, then she would pay it.

"I accept, Your Majesty." Iskra replied with a hint of mockery but Manon did not mind as long as she kept the Yellowlegs in line. 

It was Petrah who had brokered the truce between the three of them. The Valg would pounce at any sign of weakness so they had to be united. They had settled on restructuring to have three separate Ironteeth legions: one for each Clan with each Matron serving as Wing Leader. All of whom answered to the Queen of Witches. 

Iskra had not wanted to concede the Ironteeth throne, especially to a half-Crochan, but since Manon was the one forging the new Valg alliance through her marriage, there was not much she could do about it. Fortunately, she now had someone to take out her frustrations on. "Any parting words?" She asked Manon.

"I thank you for the many lessons, I will carry them with me always and remember you fondly, grandmother." Denying her the honor of being hated was the ultimate victory.

As Manon made her way out of the dungeon with Petrah, she heard the screams begin. She wondered if she would regret this, but her grandmother had orchestrated her own downfall. Iskra's cruelty might be second only to Erawan's but she would eventually finish off the Matron. It was Manon who might end up having to suffer under the latter indefinitely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'she is not alone' is Avengers inspired and the vibe of the chapter is Prayin' by Kesha. We reached those pre-written chapters I mentioned before so there will be weekly updates for the next two.


	8. The King's Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erawan keeps his promise to Aelin: her Court will become his. Some positions may be reassigned though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry but there had to be a reason why Erawan hadn't hurt Manon yet. I actually cried when I wrote this. I hope I did these characters justice. The events of this chapter take place between chapters 3 and 4.
> 
>  **Trigger Warning** : This is a dark and violent chapter with references to Lysandra's past of child abuse and forced prostitution and Erawan's abusive actions that range from threats to violence to violation.

_Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here_   
_Even if it takes all night or a hundred years_   
_Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near_   
_Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear_

_Isn't it lovely? All alone_   
_Heart made of glass, my mind of stone_   
_Tear me to pieces, skin to bone_   
_Hello, welcome home_

**\- Lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid**

* * *

When they had spied the Ironteeth legion on the horizon, Aedion confessed his love to her and begged her to take Evangeline and run for safety but Lysandra refused. She would not leave the man she loved, knowing that in the face of defeat they could never truly outrun Morath.

They had spent so much of their lives pretending for the pleasure of others. Even if all they had were these few moments, at least they would spend them together, cherishing their love. It was difficult and doomed but at least it was real.

"Do not shift. He will not know who you are." He had walked away to face Erawan who appeared to claim his victory.

She watched as Erawan himself put a Wyrd collar on Aedion who had told the Valg King even then that he still believed in Aelin. The King had only smiled and said, "I know. This would not be nearly as gratifying otherwise."

After the collar was attached, Aedion convulsed on the ground, fighting the Valg Prince with all his might. When he stilled and rose to kneel before Erawan, her heart froze. "Majesty, she is here. The shifter and the girl she cares for. He and the Queen love them both so _very_ much."

"Send them to Morath. I have use for them." Erawan ordered.

"Your wish is my command, Majesty." Valg-Aedion said before he advanced on her. She was running now in ghost leopard form towards Evangeline. Wyverns converged on her and she blacked out.

When she woke up, she was in a flying prison wagon. She had tried to shift and escape until the witch-guards had shown her Evangeline and threatened to drink her blood if Lysandra did not behave herself.

It was not until they reached Morath that the two of them were reunited. Bizarrely, they were left alone in a suite of luxurious rooms. Lysandra tried to establish a routine to keep them sane and avoided the girl's questions to the best of her abilities. She could not bear to take away what little hope remained in the child's heart.

A week later, they watched Manon Blackbeak-Crochan walk naked into the Keep from the window of their living room. Despite the herald announcing her betrothal to the Valg King, Lysandra knew the witch would do no such a thing if she had any other viable option left to her. In that moment, she realized that Erawan had the WyrdKeys. Why else would the Witch Queen agree to marry him?

"She is so very beautiful." Evangeline had said. "Do you think they will harm her?"

"No, my love." She had assured the girl. "Anyone who tries will find themselves in a world of hurt." _Apart from Erawan_.

Lysandra did not believe her eyes when an hour later, as if summoned by her thoughts, Erawan walked into their rooms. For a moment, she was frozen by the clash of a hundred emotions that raged within her, hatred the strongest among them, but she recovered and realized what she had to do.

"Your Majesty." Gods it killed her, but she fell back on her courtesan training. She performed the most beautiful curtsy Clarisse had taught her and held it, pushing Evangeline behind her skirts. With one leg swept back behind the other, bent at the knees, hands sweeping her skirts wide, spine straight and head bowed, she prostrated herself before him.

If it were just her, she would have transformed into a ghost leopard and tried to kill him, futility be damned. She would have attempted to repay him for all the pain and suffering he had rained down upon the family she had grown to cherish. Aedion was under a collar, Aelin was still lost and Terrasen had fallen but she still had her ward to protect and she would, no matter the cost to her soul and dignity.

"The Lady Lysandra. I see the tales of your beauty hold true." Erawan condescended, not yet bidding her to rise. "You were supposed arrive here months ago, but it is no matter. You are here now."

She held back tears with the full strength of her will, blinking furiously. The humiliation was nothing to her after all she had endured as a courtesan. It was the helplessness his words brought on that formed a pit in her stomach.

Lysandra was no stranger to cruel and powerful men. She had spent much of her life at their whim but Erawan was beyond any of them. She felt in her gut that there would no limit, no lines he would not cross.

How had Manon ever endured his manner when she was his Wing Leader? The witch had never spoken of him to them, not even once. Not to complain or condemn. It was almost like she knew better than to speak ill of him, even when she had so fallen so far from grace and crossed over to the other side. The Crochan Queen was nothing if not pragmatic and she had known the odds better than any of them. Still, she had fought with them while she could.

He left her in the painful position as he turned to the girl she tried to conceal from his burning gaze.

"What a pretty girl you are. Why do you hide? Come here so I may see you better." He offered his hand.

Lysandra almost sobbed when brave, noble Evangeline saw the pained trembling of her mistress and the danger of the man who beckoned and went to him anyway.

"What is your name?" He asked when she had slid her own hand into his open palm gracefully.

"Evangeline." She replied softly.

"A lovely name for a lovely young Lady." He bent forward and kissed her hand. "It suits you so, for you do indeed resemble an angel."

"Thank you, my Lord." She bobbed a curtsy.

Almost as if to reward the girl, he finally waved his hand to indicate that Lysandra should rise. Her muscles had already cramped, and she purposefully hid her wince at the movement.

"Has anyone given you a tour?" Erawan asked. When the girl shook her head, he waved forward a human servant who looked vaguely familiar. "Well, that simply will not do. Take Lady Evangeline and show her around."

He petted her hair in mockery of affection. "When you get back, I would like to hear your appraisal of my Keep."

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you. I would like that very much." Utter lies but the girl wielded her manners as well as men did their weapons. When she looked to Lysandra before they took their leave, the shifter gave her an encouraging smile to tell her that it was alright to go and she would be here when she returned. An empty promise for she did not know why Erawan was sending the girl away, but she did not imagine the reason to be anything pleasant.

"Why do you think you are here?" He dropped the niceties.

Recalling the Bloodhound from the ship, she shuddered. "I assume it involves a stone table."

He laughed. "Transformations are much easier now." _With the Keys_. He confirmed her suspicions.

"But I do not need to alter you. You are already complete." Coming from anyone else, it might have been a compliment.

Lysandra was thrown by his change in plans for her and he used that moment of uncertainty to unleash the ageless darkness he had kept fully contained thus far. The shadows in the room grew until he was all she could see. Just as Aelin and Dorian described it was despair and dread personified.

For a minute, she was an orphan on the streets of Rifthold again. A beautiful, deadly man said he would take her away from all this and give her a life of luxury. The brothel had been horrible, but it was better than the streets, the lesser of two evils. Reality bled back in for Morath was the true hell yet to come.

"There is an open position in my Court." So that is why he was doing this. He had promised Aelin in Brannon's temple that he would turn her Court into his own. Apparently, he took his word seriously. Even surrounded by Darkness, a spark of hope flared within her chest. Aelin must be alive and fighting out there if he wanted to send a message to her.

She began to retreat as he advanced toward her. If she attacked him and failed to kill him, it would be Evangeline who paid the price. She had to be sure before she went for the blow. He backed her into the large glass window and caged her between his arms, his eyes dark embers that threatened to steal her soul.

"As one of Rifthold's finest and a skilled shape-shifter, I think you would make for a fine Mistress." To be a whore once again, the universe must be playing a joke on her. Of all the fates she had feared at Morath, she had not considered the one she had escaped at long last to be her future. She shook in rage at the horrifying turn of events.

He ran a hand down the side of her quivering face before grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back hard, forcing her chest to arc against his. "You see, I have some _darker_ impulses that I would rather not subject my bride to. If I have learned anything from my brother's mistakes, it is that Queens do not stay when Kings do not treat them right."

Elide had told them Erawan had broken Kaltain's body and flaunted it in front of them all but he had not broken her spirit. He would not break hers either. He might put the ghost leopard on a leash, but it still had long, sharp claws. Let him think himself predator and her prey right up until the moment she flipped the tables and ripped his throat out with her fangs.

"You would fall under my protection, untouchable to even the Princes." He was implying that if she would not be his, she would be shared among them. She was not sure what would be worse: Aedion watching from within as the creature in control of his body hurt her or seeing that Aedion was gone completely.

Running out of patience, he curled his other hand around her neck and slammed her against the glass so hard that it slightly cracked where her head met it. "You will find that they have considerably less restraint than I do." She sensed the lie in that claim. He was the worst.

In some ways, Lysandra had been fortunate that Arobynn hired her so much that he was almost her exclusive patron. He had his moods, but she learned how to navigate them. The trade-off had been his possessiveness, but it was a small price to pay to learn his weaknesses. Knowledge she had used to help Aelin destroy him and avenge their slain lovers. Perhaps she could do it once more. For her Queen, for her country and for her family.

"Yes I... I understand." She wheezed out, both her hands clutching at the one that choked her. "It would be an honor to serve Your Majesty."

"Good. I knew you would see it my way." He smiled, releasing his hold on her and admiring the bruises that began to bloom on her neck. "I think a demonstration is in order before I make it official."

"What would you like to see?" She slid back into the mask she had spent a decade crafting.

"I have heard you do a good impression of Aelin Galathynius but I wonder how quick of a learner you are and the extent of your accuracy." He glanced towards the view beyond the window that showed the entrance of the Keep where a white-haired Queen had left a trail of blue to mark her path. Turning to see for herself, Lysandra swore she saw tiny white buds rising from the blood-soaked ground.

She closed her eyes and let herself become the witch he desired, using the recent memory to sculpt her body. Unbidden she reached behind herself to undo the strings that held her dress up and let the clothes fall to the floor. She turned to face him and opened her eyes to see his devouring gaze violating her body. She saw the demand when his eyes flicked up to hers and she discarded her undergarments as well.

His hand skimmed her skin, over the muscles and scars she had replicated and lingered in her hair. As if she were a toy for him to inspect before purchase. Maybe she should just pretend he was Arobynn, a familiar monster if nothing else.

His hand ran down her face, closing her eyes. Evidently that was the flaw in her portrayal. "Yes, you will do just fine." He said as he stroked the purple marks on her neck. "I will send for you tonight after dinner."

When she opened her eyes, he was gone. He took all traces of the darkness with him. Its sudden disappearance was so jarring that if it were not for the crack in the window and her clothes on the floor, she might have wondered if it was all a dream.

She had just finished dressing herself once more, adding a scarf to cover her neck, when Evangeline returned. The girl ran to her and she dropped to her knees to embrace her.

"Are you okay?" She asked, checking her for any marks.

"I am fine, Lysandra. Phillipa looked out for me." She assured her mistress.

"Thank you." She told the older woman who looked like she wanted to say something more but simply nodded in acceptance and left.

"What did the King want?" Evangeline asked.

"He came to offer us a place in his Court." She told her, bracing herself for the inevitable backlash.

"And did you tell him that we already belong to another Court?" The question was harsh, and her tone was sharp. The girl was fiercely loyal, a trait they shared. How could she explain the alternative to the child she had shielded from such horrors?

Men were prisoners of war; women were the spoils. Once they were passed down the chain of command, they would inevitably tumble all the way to the bottom of the totem pole. Lysandra had no desire to learn the structure of the Valg army in this manner.

Moreover, only Erawan could truly guarantee Evangeline's safety and the only way she could ever hope to learn the location of the Keys would be by getting close to him.

"Morath is a dangerous place. His protection will keep you safe." She explained.

"And who will keep you safe from him, Lysandra?" The girl looked between the crack in the window and the scarf on her neck with wisdom beyond her years.

The dam broke at the gentle question. "I am so sorry, Evangeline." She sobbed into her hands. "You are in this hellhole because of me."

Evangeline pulled down the hands of the woman who was more of a mother to her than her own. "I am not sorry, Lysrandra. I am glad I met you and our friends. I am glad that we fought for a home."

Now the girl was crying too but she pushed on. "I know we lost and now you are to suffer for it so that I do not, just as you did in Rifthold."

Lysandra shook her head to tell her she was not a burden; she was everything to her. "But if I could do it all over again, I would still choose the same path. It was worth it. I would rather be in hell with the rest of you than in heaven alone."

"My dear, sweet child." Lysandra pulled the girl into her arms and hugged her with no intention to ever let go. "I love you so much."

"All hope is not lost." Lysandra confided, whispering into her ear. "I believe Aelin is still out there, fighting him. We are behind enemy lines and we may for a while yet so we must fight in a different way. Be patient and hidden and clever. Let them think us tamed while we learn all we can. Men will always underestimate us and in the end, they will suffer greatly for it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lysandra and Evangeline are so precious. They deserve rainbows and butterflies and all the happiness in the world.
> 
> The idea for this chapter came from two observations of mine. First, Erawan only turned down Maeve's offer because of a conflict with her identity. He was quite okay with enjoying the glamours she summoned. Second, Arobynn is quite similar to Erawan. The way the Duke treated Kaltain and Manon has strong parallels to Arobynn's actions towards Lysandra and Celaena.


	9. The Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Aelin's alliance survive the fall of Orynth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by Ramsey Bolton's letter to Jon Snow in Game of Thrones and Voldemort's offer of clemency in the Battle of Hogwarts. It is also in honor of Tony Stark, the greatest hero in the MCU.
> 
> Note: This story is mainly from Manon's perspective. I may venture into another POV sometimes, like last chapter or this one.

_We come from the land of the ice and snow_   
_From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow_   
_How soft your fields so green. Can whisper tales of gore_   
_Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your overlords_

_On we sweep with threshing oar_   
_Our only goal will be the western shore_   
_So now you'd better stop and rebuild all your ruins_   
_For peace and trust can win the day despite of all your losing_

**\- Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin**

* * *

Aelin kept a protective eye on Elide ever since they had heard of Perranth's fate. 'This is war. Cities will be lost, people slaughtered.' The Crochan Queen had warned her. Even after watching Eyllwe's coast burn and hearing of the demise of Terrasen's second biggest city, the young queen still believed they could prevail against the forces of darkness and salvage their homeland. Looking around the table at the mighty warriors and rulers assembled, she had hope that they would be able to make the sacrifices of the fallen count.

Alas her positive thinking was brought to a sudden halt when their war council was interrupted by a whisper that came from inside their skulls.

"People of Erilea" intoned an ageless, otherworldly voice.

Aelin recognized it instantly. "Erawan."

Everyone immediately stepped out of the tent, expecting to see an enemy force upon their base in the Ferian Gap.

To their confusion, they found none within sight.

Still the Cadre took up defensive positions and the Khagan royals summoned their guards.

"How is he doing this?" Sartaq wondered.

"He must be using the witch towers to amplify his projection." Aelin guessed.

They felt the caress of that hideous, beautiful voice as it delivered an ultimatum.

"My Name is Lord Erawan. I am your King."

"Jeesh this guy loves titles as much as you do." Fenrys jested with his Queen, trying to ease the tension. She smiled back as best she could, but her nerves were on fire beneath the facade. 

"Kneel as my subjects and I will protect you. None shall be harmed; your homes will be untouched, and you will be able to go on with your lives as you did before. Anyone who has information that leads to the capture of rebel leaders will be richly rewarded."

"Who is foolish enough to believe this?" Elide asked bitterly. The cities turned to rubble and scorched fields were infamous tokens of his Reign of Terror upon the continent. Yet she could understand how those demonstrations might cause the citizenry to believe his offer of clemency out of desperation, even if it was just deceit. 

"To the rebels and the sympathizers who aid and shelter them, continue with your folly and I shall crush you as I did Orynth. Your women will be raped by my soldiers, your children will be eaten alive and your men will be drafted into my army. Surrender to me, pledge your unending fealty, and I shall show mercy."

"No, he's lying. Orynth could not already have fallen." Aelin shook her head in denial as Rowan's arms steadied her. She wanted to purge the enemy out of her head with fire but she knew that if she let herself drown in rage, she could not be the leader her team needed. 

"Wise of him to use both carrot and stick." Hasar observed. Sartaq gave a grave nod in agreement and Nesryn paled at the description of the fall of Terrasen's capital. Rifthold had been child's play in comparison.

"To Aelin Galathynius, I send my regards. Your allies are prisoners in my dungeon. The remnants of your Court serve me. You have permitted others to die for you rather than face me yourself. If you continue to run and hide, I will hunt you down. The choice is yours."

Gavriel and Aelin looked at each other with shared concern for Aedion while the rest tried to shake off the icky residue of the Dark King's presence in their minds. Even when the voice faded, its violating touch lingered.

"How do we know whether he spoke the truth or lies meant to deter our advance?" Nesryn offered.

"We should verify his claims and re-evaluate our strategy accordingly." Sartaq agreed. "A scout may be able to reach the city in days."

"We will be sitting ducks in the meantime." Lorcan grumbled. "We could be halfway there by then."

"Any advance northward could make retreat more difficult." Hasar noted.

"Are you suggesting we give up?" Chaol demanded, consumed with concern for Dorian and Adarlan. "Run away with our tails between our legs?"

"If he truly holds the North and the South, then there is nothing left to salvage. The Wastes and the Desert have few populous." Kashin explained calmly, although pity shaded his face. "We have a much better chance of fending him off from our own shores then we do of defeating his army on his territory."

"What of the keys? Manon and Dorian?" Chaol grasped at threads, hoping to persuade them to stay and fight from here.

"What does Hellas say? Fight or flee?" Elide asked Lorcan.

"I have not felt him lately." He shook his head.

"Anneith has gone silent as well." She confirmed. "Do you think they managed to close the gate somehow?"

"If they did, why would Erawan still be here? Was that not part of the bargain?" Rowan turned to Aelin."Do you feel different?"

"I don't know. I drained myself at Anielle. I thought it may take time to refill." She replied.

The next few days were spent in tense silence. The Khagan royals stayed in Hasar's tent, gaming out possible scenarios amongst themselves so they could react quickly based on the scouting report. The army and their Wild Tribe allies grew restless but were glad to make use of the real quarters in the Ferian Gap rather than their feeble tents.

Aelin wanted to see Orynth for herself but her friends would not let her go alone and she knew she could not recklessly endanger them yet again. Nesryn and Falkan had gone to discover the veracity of Erawan's claims. Luckily when Falkan regained his youth, his powers had scaled as well, allowing him to take the form of a Ruk. Nesryn assured them that she would be speedy and surreptitious in her surveillance. Sartaq seemed reluctant to allow his beloved to venture into such danger but could not deny that she was the most suitable for the task.

Meanwhile the Cadre scoured the books that Chaol and Yrene had brought with them for spells that may aid them. They had found a portal spell but one that was only effective in this world. Aelin had tried to open a path to Orynth with it but discovered she could not. Rowan speculated that there must be wards in place to prevent this. Morath yielded the same results and the young Queen had promptly stormed off in frustration as what should have been a breakthrough appeared to be just another dead end.

The reconnaissance team returned on the third day as the bearers of grim tidings. Erawan's claims had been accurate. Nesryn had been unable to discover the exact fates of each of their allies but the city had indeed fallen and Aedion Ashryver had been seen among the Morath infantry wearing a WyrdStone collar. The only good news was that the witch towers had not been used on any cities. Many towns reported a flurry of hidden Crochan witches taking to the skies, armed for combat, in the prior week. However, the witches had never made it to Orynth it seemed.

"Perhaps they were ambushed on the journey or simply arrived too late." Chaol theorized.

"Or perhaps they deemed this fight a lost cause and switched sides." Hasar speculated.

"Manon hates him more than anything. I cannot imagine she would yield to him. She would rather die." Elide stated emphatically.

"But would she let her entire race be eradicated instead?" Sartaq asked. "A ruler must do what is best for their people, regardless of personal preference." He looked at Aelin and they shared an unspoken understanding of the meaning behind his words.

"As long as there is breath in my body, I will fight for the freedom of my people." Aelin bowed. "I thank you for your aid and wish you safe travel. It was an honor to share the battlefield with you."

In a tactical retreat, the Khagan's armies returned with haste and stealth back across the narrow sea, taking advantage of Morath's temporary concentration of forces in the North. They invited the others to join them, especially pregnant Yrene but the healer was determined to stay with her husband in their shared homeland. Nesryn went with them because her family was on the Southern Continent now. Falkan stayed behind in hopes of finding his niece against all odds.

Soon afterwards the news of Manon's arrival at Morath and her betrothal to Erawan reached the remaining rebels who had assimilated with the Wild Men, using the mountains as a secure base of operations. Chaol and Yrene stayed in Anielle with Lord Westfall since her pregnancy made outdoor living an unnecessary risk. It was there that their counsel now convened. 

"He must have the keys." Elide concluded. "I cannot imagine any other reason she would agree to marry him after seeing what he did to his last bride."

"What if we gave him a taste of his own medicine?" Elide proposed, gesturing to the gold ring she wore. "Ensure this ring is placed on his finger for the wedding."

"Seems a bit on the nose, considering he used this exact trick on the Khagan princess Duva." Chaol replied.

"How would we deliver it?" Aelin mused. "They know what all of us look like and Falkan's scent would be detected."

"We do not know if that will be enough to kill him." Yrene added. "Maybe it would diminish his powers. Perhaps I might try to finish him off."

"That would be ill-advised Lady Westfall." Gavriel cautioned. "You would be alone in a nest of enemies, risking more than your own life." He glanced to her stomach pointedly.

"She would not be alone." Elide replied. "I would go with her. Find a way to sneak us in."

Lorcan objected. "This is foolish, a shot in the dark. We must secure a tactical advantage, not risk our most vulnerable."

"If we gained control over one of those witch towers, we could use it to amplify our powers." Rowan suggested.

"We will carefully consider our next move but make no mistake my friends." Aelin declared. "We may not have been able to save Orynth, but you can be damn well sure we will avenge it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this story, I planned to focus on just the witches and the Valg but I began to wonder about the rest of the ensemble cast. What would be their fates, motives and moves in this alternate universe? For all Erawan speaks of annihilating his enemies, he sure does enjoy tormenting them and playing the long game. When our heroes prevailed in KoA, they did not need the Keys or the Gods. They just had to work together, play it smart and use what they did have. Maas repeatedly emphasized that whoever controlled the Keys could rule the universe but she also loves creating impossible scenarios for her heroes to gamble their way through. It ain't over until the fat lady sings. The game has certainly changed but players are still on the board. Anything is possible!


	10. Field Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding approaches and time is running out for Manon to decide her move. Erawan deviates from their routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got distracted by The Queen's Gambit but I’m back, having read nearly all the BethxBenny fics the fandom has to offer! After weeks of not being able to write at all, this chapter spewed itself out of me in one afternoon. Happy New Year!!

_I've been left out alone like a damn criminal_   
_I've been praying for help 'cause I can't take it all_   
_I'm not done, it's not over_

_Now I'm fighting this war since the day of the fall_   
_And I'm desperately holding on to it all_   
_But I'm lost, I'm so damn lost_

_'Cause your soul is on fire, a shot in the dark_   
_What did they aim for when they missed your heart?  
I breathe underwater, it's all in my hands_   
_What can I do? Don't let it fall apart_

**\- Shot in the Dark by Within Temptation**

* * *

Manon considered her options. She was at a marked disadvantage. Erawan knew all her weak points and moves thus far. While she had insight into some of his basic tactics and behaviors, she was nowhere near being able to see his endgame.

It was not realistic that she could somehow eliminate the threat he posed before the wedding. She needed more time to gain better position for her pieces and develop an advanced play with multiple redundancies to try against him. She would only ever get one shot at this. In fact, she was certain he expected her to attempt it, but she was counting on his ego to lead him to underestimate her.

Thinking back to her conversation with Maeve, she knew she would have to come up with something new. She also recalled how the Queen compared the two of them. Had she been foretelling Manon's future in her past? A warning that she should prepare herself. In the event of her failure, she would have to face a reckoning and the rest of forever with him.

What she was not prepared for was a change to their routine. The Valg King himself showed up at her doorstep an hour before their scheduled appointment. He knocked politely and she opened the door warily, raising an eyebrow in question at him.

“Hello Manon, I want to show you something before dinner if you do not mind.”

She blinked. What could he be up to? “Alright.” She was wearing her witch leathers and just grabbed her sword, attaching it to her belt and closing the door behind her.

“May I?” He asked, not waiting for a response before his hands grasped her waist. She had half a mind to shove him off but knew the action would be ill advised.

“You might want to close your eyes. The portal can be disorienting.” As loathe as she was to listen to the megalomanic, Manon decided it would be more dignified than hurling her guts out. She felt a vague sense of the space around them shifting and was surprised by how quickly the sensation faded.

“Hmm convenient.” She acknowledged the upside of his chosen method of transport.

“A gift from my darling sister.” It was just like him to take what he wanted from someone and claim it to be voluntarily given.

Manon surveyed their surroundings. They stood at the top of a canyon, a small ravine with maroon waters running through the crack below. Their vantage point overlooked a vast plain with black soil but no vegetation. Some vultures perched on the leafless trees but apart from that, the area was devoid of life and its limited luster came from the twilight sky. It certainly seemed like his kind of place. 

“Where are we?” She finally asked.

“Near the Ararat mountains.” He gave a curt reply.

“What are we doing here?” She prompted, knowing he would not tell her until she asked. Sooner he made his point, the sooner they would leave this wasteland.

“This is where I won my first battle in this world.” He answered, a small smile on his face as he gazed out over the terrain. “Sometimes I like to come here to remember how it felt.”

She was not sure where he was going with this. “There is comfort in revisiting our past glory.” She reflected, using her own experience.

“Yes, but if we dwell in sentiment, we can be held hostage by it.” He replied, still not looking at her. “If my enemies were to discover my fondness, they may occupy it simply to bother me. What do you think I should do?”

Why would he care for her opinion on this? Was he showing her a false weakness to test whether she would use it against him? Was he gauging her judgement like he did with the Rifthold siege? “I think you should let it go. There will be more victories to come.”

“I agree.” He affirmed, finally turning to face her. “Can you do the same for me?”

The pieces clicked into place and Manon glanced to the side to gather herself, wondering how he had found out about her dream tryst with Dorian. Had Maeve told him, or did he see it inside Dorian's mind?

He brought her gaze back to him with gentle hands on her cheeks. They burned beneath his touch in anger at his audacity and her own folly in not anticipating this.

“I do not mind if you play with my toys, my dear.” He condescended, stroking her skin softly with his thumbs, their eyes locked in a heated battle. “Just see to it that you do not become attached. Others will use it against you, even if I do not.”

A warning about Maeve or a misdirect to make her think the Queen had betrayed her? Asking would not be helpful since she could not trust his response to be truthful. She did not fail to notice how he referred to both herself and Dorian with possessive pronouns. She could feel the walls of the cage closing in already and all she wanted to do was get away from him and his burning scrutiny of her.

She knows this much: the best defense is a good offense. He was trying to make it sound like her rendezvous did not bother him in the least, but he would not be making this gesture if that were true. Maybe that was the real weakness exposed here, a way to get under his skin.

She had to be careful in her prodding, so she edged the accusation with gratitude. She doubted she could pass off the calculated maneuver as a genuine response, but she would have to work on her acting skills later.

“I did not think sharing to be your strong suit. I suppose there is a great deal I do not know about you.” She allowed, reaching up to take his hands off her face, fed up with his false caresses. “But I do recall how quickly your toys end up broken so I am under no illusions as to their impermanence.”

A cruel upturn of one corner of his mouth told her that he appreciated her game play. His hands settled upon her waist, indicating the round far from over. Seeking to unnerve him, instead of pushing out of his grasp, she stepped forward and placed her own hands on his chest. One shove would send them both over the edge. The fall was unlikely to kill either of them, but it would be rather exciting to find out if he could teleport them midair. She decided that was exactly what she would do if he attempted to claim her mouth.

“Do you want to know how he ended up as my toy Manon?” He teased, a wicked gleam in his eye. Perhaps he was finally dropping the gentleman act and showing his demonic self.

She swallowed in anticipation and tried to keep her breathing steady as she gave a nod and held his stare with her iron will.

“My sister was attempting to seduce me, going from one mirage to another. He could not contain himself when you were the one that got any reaction at all.” _His feelings for you exposed him_. He was warning her to not repeat the same mistake.

“This is a strange family I am marrying into.” She joked, buying time. He gave a chuckle in response. “Humans let emotions rule them. We are our own masters.” The implication being that he was not hers.

“You do hold yourself well.” He remarked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Calm in the face of a storm. Sometimes I forget how very young you are.”

“What difference does it make?” She asked bitterly.

“I look forward to seeing the Queen you become.” He said, dropping the pretenses just as he had when he promised his help in returning her people to their homeland. Once again, it was his sincerity that scared her more than his threats, but this time they were in the middle of nowhere so she could not manage a quick exit.

“Close your eyes.” He said in a low voice. Bracing herself for the kiss she had thus far avoided, Manon wondered if the cliff was still a good idea. A moment passed and nothing happened. She was ready to find out why when she felt the ground lurch beneath them, and she instinctively held him tighter.

It was strange, being pressed against him did not feel as repulsive as she had imagined. The irony of seeking safety in the arms of the most dangerous male in her life did not escape her.

She opened her eyes to find them on the familiar stone balcony where they take their meals together. She had expected him to press his advantage but to her great disbelief, the King gave her a reprieve.

“Are you ready?” He inquired. She knew he meant for dinner but also for more than that.

“I could eat.” She responded, ready to get back to the routine that felt familiar.

She could see no strategic value in his retreat, no matter how much she thought about it as she laid in bed that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already written and will be out next weekend!


	11. The White Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever said a wedding is the happiest day of a bride's life forgot to add an exception clause for if the groom happens to be the Devil himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the big day! Are you ready for it? 
> 
> Ceremony plays off communion and the Night's Watch oath from Game of Thrones. Shout out to the film Uncut Gems for Erawan's ring. Here is: [Manon's wedding dress](https://www.yesbabyonline.com/g/glamorous-long-sleeve-wedding-dress-mermaid-lace-bridal-gowns-109892.html).

_Every move you make, every vow you break_   
_Every smile you fake, every claim you stake_   
_I'll be watching you._

_Every single day, every word you say_   
_Every game you play, every night you stay_   
_I'll be watching you._

**\- Every Breathe You Take by The Police**

* * *

It was the most beautiful location any bride could wish for. A picturesque, winter's day; snow fell lightly from grey skies and melted before it could stick to the ground. The palace gardens where the ceremony was to be held were stunning even with the leaves having turned brown for the winter. That is if one could ignore the bloodstains on the white walls, the towers of bones that framed each entrance gate and the horrors that had taken up residence in the once peaceful city.

The contrast was certainly a sight to behold and would be suitable for a masterpiece of a tapestry. As soon as the thought occurred to her, Manon was nauseated. She was beginning to think like Erawan which was a necessary task but unnerving, nevertheless.

Still, she decided to have the artwork commissioned. Her future husband would appreciate it and she wanted to repay his wedding gift to her before he called in the favor for a far more unpleasant task. Hopefully there were still some artisans left in the war-ravaged land. Looking down at her outfit, she figured if the dressmakers survived then so did the thread weavers.

Manon had never worn a white dress before. She wondered why he had bothered; she was certainly no maiden, although she was so very young compared to him, as he loved to point out. It was not a witch or Valg tradition. In fact, the entire ceremony was very human. She had not asked him why, uncertain as to whether she wanted to hear the answer.

The gown was certainly fit for a Queen, but not a warrior. The bodice narrowed at the knees before it flared out, making it difficult to do much more than waddle forward on the wooden wedges that were needed since the length of the dress exceeded her own height.

Manon channeled a great deal of focus and effort into not tripping over the heavy hem or the easily, twisted gauzy train that ran from where it was pinned under the Crown of Stars in her braided hairdo to a few feet behind her on the floor.

She wondered if the point of this absurd outfit was to prevent her from becoming a runaway bride with cold feet. If she could barely walk, how would she flee on a wyvern? Not that there was anywhere she could flee to in the first place.

Its stunning beauty was undeniable. The heavy lace was woven into intricate patterns of subtle leaves and flowers with scattered beading that Manon could have sworn were actual pearls. The dress was skintight and had a finely netted mesh for the top half creating the illusion that lace on her arms and chest was attached to her skin with adhesive. 

Manon had spent hours standing on a stool this morning so several seamstresses could adjust the measurements. She supposed she should be glad it did not involve one of those dreaded corsets that she had heard Aelin and Lysandra collectively bemoan as torture devices.

A dress like this must have taken considerable time and money to be made. She wondered how far in advance he had planned this wedding and what else he had planned for her.

His promise to help her people return to their homeland sounded too good to be true but despite her cynicism, a part of Manon knew that she would be truly grateful if he kept it. Her parents had formed a union to give her a shot at breaking the curse and if she had to do the same then so be it. She had promised to lead the Ironteeth there. To honor her sister's sacrifice, she would find a way for them to share it with the Crochans.

After some pleading, Glennis had agreed to walk Manon down the aisle despite her objections to this union. While she would have been fine on her own, Manon did not want room for Erawan to suggest Dorian give her away. He had made the princeling his best man instead with a collared Aedion Ashryver serving as a groomsman. They had escorted Asterin, her maid of honor, and Petrah, her bridesmaid, down the aisle already and stood at the altar with the Dark King. Manon had asked the Blueblood rather than Sorrel to show that she still had strong allies among the Ironteeth.

Sorrel had understood. The rest of her thirteen lined the aisle, their sword forming an arch. They stood as still as stone. She knew all they wanted to do was wield those swords and fight their way out of here. If only it were so simple. The fate of an entire race rested in her hands, perhaps more.

They had pleaded with her this morning to be assigned to her Queen's guard so they might join her in Morath. Manon did not want to tempt Erawan into involving them in whatever games he would start playing once they were wed. She told them that she needed them leading the Ironteeth and keeping peace with the Crochans.

"Are you ready?" Her great grandmother asked, bringing her out of her musings and back to the moment at hand.

How could anyone be ready to marry their sworn enemy in front of the Valg commanders, the Witch leaders and Erawan's prisoners of war?

Manon had convinced him to let Maeve attend. _Shouldn't your sister be at our wedding?_

If the Queen had any tricks left up her sleeve, this would give her the chance to concoct an escape. It was repayment for the advice and dream spell but more than that, she could not forget the look on her face as she spoke of her husband. No matter how Maeve had contributed to their failure in defeating Erawan and even if she had sold her out, Manon could not condemn another woman to the hell she was about to walk into. No one deserved such a fate. Perhaps if they had all banded together sooner, they would not be here now.

Manon nodded and they walked down the aisle. Everyone stood up for her. She looked out into the crowd and saw some faces she recognized and others she did not. Her practice from this morning paid off and she did not trip on the way to the altar.

Glennis reluctantly handed her off to Erawan. Strangely enough, the weight of his hand in hers steadied her when the nerves she had been fighting all day threatened to visibly shake her.

The priest cleared his throat. "Welcome one and all. We are gathered here today to bear witness the union of His Royal Majesty Lord Erawan, a King of the Valg and Ruler of Erilea, with Her Royal Majesty, Manon Blackbeak Crochan, Queen of Witches in holy matrimony."

This was real. This was happening, it was not just her recurring nightmare. The grip on her hand grew tighter. She did not know if it was in threat or reassurance. She tried to regulate her breathing so no one else would notice. Goddess only knows what Erawan would do if she made a scene in front of the world at large.

"If there is any reason why these two should not be wed here today, speak now or forever hold thy peace." The priest announced before taking an uncomfortably long pause to see if anyone took him up on the offer.

Why would Erawan include this in the script? Manon glanced around as discretely as she could.

Was the whole wedding a trap? Aelin was still out there with her Fae warriors. While the event was heavily guarded, the guest list was a gold mine of allies to rescue and enemies to take out. Is that why he had insisted on holding the wedding in Orynth? Not simply to show off his latest conquest or mock the Queen of Terrasen but to tempt her into the kind of brazen stunt she had pulled to free Aedion Ashryver.

No one spoke or stood up. Everyone here was under his control. Perhaps he did it just to reinforce his dominance over them all and prove that no one could stop him from taking what he wanted. Manon blinked rapidly to dispel any liquid that might build up in her eyes. She did not know if her tears would please or upset him, but she would not let him see her cry. He might take a lot of things from her today but not that.

She heard her grandmother's voice in her head. _Do not dare feel sorry for yourself Manon. You are made of iron._

Two empty golden chalices were brought out. The priest took a ceremonial dagger to each of their wrists and let some blood fill each cup. A blood oath. Their wedding vows would create a blood bond like the one Aelin and Rowan had but it would be mutual. She reviewed the pre-negotiated phrases in her head once more and did not find anything particularly damning such as words of obedience or honesty.

After binding each of their bleeding wrists with a wrapping, the priest placed the chalices in their free hands and had them link their arms, crossing at the elbows.

"Through spoken oath and shared blood, you may now form the sacred covenant of marriage." The priest instructed.

To her relief, Erawan went first. "I vow to honor you and protect you. I will take no other to be my Queen for this night and all nights to come."

Manon took a deep breath and condemned herself. "I promise to stand by you and share my life with you. I will take no other to be my King for this night and all nights to come."

Preparing to push back any bile that might arise, Manon tilted the cup back and drowned the contents in one go. To her great surprise, his blood was not as disgusting as she had expected based on her experience of ripping apart the Valg. It tasted like strong whiskey and set her blood on fire. The burning was not unpleasant like Kaltain's shadowfire but its heat spread throughout her body as if to melt away who she was and forge her anew.

"You may exchange rings as tokens of your commitment towards each other." Apparently, shackles came in all shapes and sizes.

She had expected a WrydStone ring from him. She inhaled sharply when instead he slid on her finger a stunning Topaz ring that matched the Crown of Stars on her head. It was as if he had grabbed a star from the night sky and melded it to iron for her alone. Manon refused to admit, even to herself, how well it suited her and what a grand gesture it was.

If she had been feeling particularly rebellious, she might have dared to give him a Sapphire ring. Maybe she would have if she did not think he would give her Dorian's actual eyeballs as earrings in retaliation.

Instead, she had had a proper ring forged for him. The band was Adarlanian steel procured during the Rifthold siege, impressive on its own, but it was the stone that was truly special. It was a rare uncut gem, an opal from the lost crystal caves of the Western sea. It contained a myriad of brilliant colors within its dark depth and appeared to have a life of its own as it shifted its pattern under varying light.

When she had spied it among the royal Crochan jewels, she thought that it depicted the cosmos themselves. Perhaps he would appreciate it as a world-walker and a collector of rare items.

"I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Perhaps it was just for show, but he was surprisingly gentle as he pulled her into his grasp and initiated their first kiss.

Unwillingly to let him have control, she slid her tongue into his mouth as she kissed him back and hooked one arm around his neck. She could taste her blood in his mouth and, just like Cyrene the Stygian Spider had claimed, it did indeed taste like dark chocolate, both rich and bittersweet.

He twisted and dipped her; the crowd roared in applause at their apparent affection. Little did they know it was all just a battle for dominance. One which they had to put on pause, lest they lose their carefully crafted image of composure in front of their guests.

The resolution would take place in the royal suite that had been prepared for their wedding night. Before that, there would be a reception which provided Manon a golden chance to speak with certain individuals without raising suspicion. She would not waste it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of my pre-written chapters won't show up in the story for a while but I have solid outlines for the next 3 chapters so hopefully my writing flow cooperates. Would love to read your thoughts on the wedding!


End file.
